


Practical lessons

by Rogercat



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family Bonding, Female Maedhros, Fourth Age, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Siblings, Training, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: The whole family joins in to teach and learn
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Maedhros | Maitimo & Original Male Character(s), Nerdanel & Sons of Fëanor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Practical lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lidoshka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidoshka/gifts).



Despite that he had been born a prince, and enrighted to a life in comfort because of that status, Fëanor always felt more alive when he was allowed to work with his hands. All seven of his children with Nerdanel had, as a result, grown up by learning at least one craft that could be useful in adulthood. Of course, he had not meant to indirectly train them for their later exile in Middle-earth, but as his daughter had said: 

“If we had been pampered and spoiled like that good-for-nothing daughter of Thingol, Morgoth would have defeated us far sooner!” 

No one who had lived through the First Age, could disagree with that logic. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Helping Rûsa to unlearn his habits as a former slave was not an easy task, but the whole family tried. Today, Amras was giving his younger nephew a lesson in what uses plants could have. 

“So plants can be used for dying fabric as well?” 

Given that the reborn son of Maedhros had mostly worn rags as clothing, it was understandable that he already had been skilled with needle and thread to try and mend the sorry excuse for clothes for so long that they were a patchwork of various rags sewn together with none of the original fabrice remaining at the end. Therefore, Caranthir and his great-grandmother Miriel had instead focused on teaching him embroidery and how fabrice was made in many steps from fibers. 

“Yes. That is how we can get those bright colours on fabric and threads. Best of all, most of them are found in nature!” 

Amrod had followed his twin and nephew out in the woods, to search for pieces of wood that could be used in his work as a wood carver. Right now he had a full basket to carry on his back. 

“I think you will find it interesting to see how your grandmother and I work to craft stone and wood into art later. It is a lot of work, and we need specialized tools for it, but the results are worth all the time.” 

  
  


Since they already were out in the woods, it was no problem handing him over to their second-oldest brother for another show of skills they had. As Celegorm was a hunter, he could tell that Rûsa had good basic skills in hunting, such as not wasting meat if he had managed to kill a prey, and while his nephew could use more lessons in cooking, he knew that eating raw meat was an invitation for food poisoning. 

“Tanning the leather was something I would have liked to know in the past, because it would have been nice with a proper leather belt or something,” Rûsa commented as his second uncle helped him remove the hair from the skin that would become leather. 

“Yes, but at least you can learn this now.” 

Celegorm also made sure to show his sister-son how the meat could be made into a simple but tasty soup by adding water and herbs for flavor. Knowing basic recipes that only needed a few ingredients to be made, was often a ground for trying more advanced cooking later. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Music and singing lessons with Maglor as a teacher generally went so-so, not because Rûsa was tone-deaf but because he simply did not hold much passion for it. 

“Well, as long as you can recognize simple melodies and not feel ashamed if someone asks to hand them a particular music instrument, then I'm happy.” 

Maglor also used those lessons to train his nephew in calligraphy, even if his dyslexia most often resulted in it becoming drawings instead. 

  
  


Fighting was, as expected, a field in which Rûsa excelled because of his past. Even as an Elfling, he managed to be a bit of a challenge for his mother and uncles because he was used to fighting dirty, thinking out of the box to avoid injuries and, as a rule, try to kill his opponents as quickly as possible. Though some of those “training methods” from Angband to make him into the feared Warg Rider was  _ very _ questionable. 

“A cave troll?!” Curufin asked in shock at what Rûsa told them after one such training season. 

“A cave troll?  **_A fucking cave troll!!_ ** ” 

“What? How else do you think I trained up my speed against bigger opponents?” Rûsa responded, not really gasping why they suddenly were so upset. He understood that they did not like how close he had come to being killed, but surely they did not need to overreact like this? 

“While you were chained with one leg to the middle of an open area for  **_show!?_ ** ” 

Even without her maternal instincts acting up, Maedhros did not like the mental image of her son in such a manner of training, especially not when Rûsa had guessed his age back then to maybe early adolescence because Sauron had only seen him worthy of battle training when he no longer was a child. 

“I really want a nice, massive Dwarven warhammer and flatten a few orcs right now…!” Caranthir muttered, not even bothering to restain the sudden desire for fighting that could be felt in his aura. The same could be said about his siblings and anyone who had to face them as opponents in the First Age would have been very alarmed by that aura.

However, Rûsa suddenly became insecure about whatever it had been a good idea to mention his past training, because all the adults reacted so strongly to something that was common to the slaves. 

“Uh...did I say something bad?” 

Maedhros realised at once why he was confused. 

“I will explain to the best of my ability while we do some gymnastic exercises so none of us get sore muscles after the battle training, sweetie.” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Had it been any other Elfling, Elrond would have been alarmed by seeing Maedhros instruct her son to train with weapons. Made of wood, of course, but still able to cause injuries. 

“Is it bad that ammë wants me to keep my old battle skills?” Rûsa asked as the healer checked on him for possible bruises and other minor injuries that everyone could get in weapon training. 

“No. Their past as Kinslayers will paint how others will view you, so I would not be surprised if someone might try and beat you up for something they did. Since you look like a normal Elfling that is small for your supposed age, they would view you as an easy target.” 

Given that Rûsa had just managed to knock out his grandfather by a mix of luck, dirty tricks and surprise, mainly because Fëanor was not the same seasoned warrior as his seven children by dying long before them, that proved just how bad of a idea it would be to underestimate Maedhros' son because he was a Elfling right now. Having an adult mind, and memories of his past life, would mean that Rûsa hardly would let himself be beaten up by someone bigger and stronger. 

“There. Go and take a nice, hot bath to relax before dinner. You have worked hard today even with all the free time between lessons,” Maedhros smiled at her son as Elrond let him run off. It had been a fruitful day for everyone. 

  
  


Nerdanel was not surprised to see her younger grandson fast asleep on the pile made out of the layers of pillows and blankets they used for the colder winter season. He had been tired after training and the bath not long ago, after all. 

“You need a blanket to keep yourself warm, young one.” 

Out of habit from raising her own brood, Nerdanel placed a thin blanket over Rûsa without waking him and then returned to the kitchen for the tea she had intended to make. 


End file.
